


The Second Wedding

by sophinisba



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: 1000-5000 Words, Community: camelot_fleet, F/M, Sex Magic, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-10
Updated: 2009-10-10
Packaged: 2017-10-05 20:21:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophinisba/pseuds/sophinisba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwen asks for Merlin's help in consecrating her marriage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Second Wedding

**Author's Note:**

> In a camelot_fleet party, netgirl_y2k gave me the prompt "wedding night" and a choice of Gwen/Arthur or Gwen/Arthur/Merlin, so I went with something in between.

It's not the first time for either of them, and it's not the first time for the two of them together, and it's not even their first time here, in this bed, in the royal bedchamber, with Arthur as king. Gwen being queen, all right, so that's new, but she doesn't _feel_ any different, so she doesn't think going to bed with him will be any different either. Only once they're alone Arthur's stiff – and not in the way she wants, standing in front of him at the foot of the bed, pressing her hips against his and feeling…nothing, only the way he draws away and squeezes her hand.

"Is something wrong?" Gwen says.

"No," he answers at once. "Everything's…You're perfect, Guinevere."

Gwen laughs but he doesn't join in. He's looking only at her face while she looks down at the ridiculously elaborate white gown, wondering how she'll ever get out of it without help – she had two maids and a lady in waiting help her get into it, and Arthur has his talents but dresswrangling is not among them. Still, she ought to give him a chance, let him get used to the fact that they're husband and wife now and they're all alone, not standing on an altar in front of God and his priest, a hundred nobles and a thousand commoners, as they were the last time they kissed.

"It's still just me," she says softly, "just Gwen." And still holding his hand she kisses his mouth, and he kisses her back, but apart from that they barely move. This dress is too tight and Arthur isn't opening her up. It's like he's kissing a virgin, or a white stone statue, and not the woman he's known all this time. It takes her back through the years to their very first kiss, that morning in the house that still felt empty even with a rude and snoring guest in it. How they stood there awed and terrified and happy in the glaring sunlight, how it was loving but chaste, how it seemed to go on forever and she still didn't want it to end.

It wasn't enough then, and it isn't _nearly_ enough now.

She pulls away, clears her throat and lets go of his hand, and says "I know what we need to do."

With that she crosses to the door and swings it wide open.

"Gwen, what are you –"

"Merlin?" she calls out, which is a little silly, since he has no reason to be hanging around outside the king's chambers. "Ah, Cal," she says, grinning at the nervous-looking guard standing at the end of the corridor. "Will you send for the court magician at once please? Tell him the king needs his help."

"Yes, your majesty."

Gwen's momentarily distracted by how nice it feels to be addressed that way, but as he's turning the corner she shouts, "Tell him it's an emergency!"

"Guinevere," says the king of Camelot, "I hope you're not suggesting that I need help from a sorcerer to be able to satisfy my wife."

"Certainly not, sire," she says, smiling sweetly as she comes back to him. She leans close again, but gentler now, curling a hand around the back of his head to card through his hair, and nuzzling his neck and his ear.

"He could walk in on us at any moment, you know," says Arthur, but he's holding her, his hands joined around the small of her back, and it's not perfect but it's better.

Merlin, true to form, bursts into the room just as Arthur's lowering one hand to cup Gwen's arse and she's longing for him to pull her in close, but of course he lets go and steps back as Merlin blurts out,

"Gwen, are you all right?"

"Of course she's all right, Merlin. Did you think I was going to attack her the moment –"

"Are _you_ all right, Arthur?"

"Yes, I'm fine, and I have no idea what –"

"Merlin, can you help me get out of this dress?" says Gwen.

Both men stare at her, and Gwen rolls her eyes.

"I'm not saying get me naked. I'm saying loosen up the back. You can use magic if the lacing's too difficult for you. It's…rather a feat of engineering."

Merlin nods slowly as Arthur continues to frown. She turns her back to both of them and after a few minutes of tugging from four hands and grumbling from two mouths they both step back and Merlin says something in words she doesn't understand but that sound familiar by now, and the tingling down her spine is familiar too, like the time she was injured in a swordfight and he knit her flesh back together in second. Only now there's no pain, only that gentle thrill of energy, that touch so like Merlin, the way he can never stand still.

Gwen breathes easy for the first time in hours, and she turns to her two favourite men left in the world and says, "Thank you."

"Is that all you needed him for?" says Arthur, and the impatience in his stance is encouraging, tempting, makes her want to pretend it was just that and send Merlin away. Her dress is hanging loose and the fabric moves on her breasts as she breathes, and the magic is still lingering at her back and all around her, although Merlin's lowered his hands and his eyes are shining open and blue, and what she really wants is to be naked on that bed with her husband's hands on her bare skin, but.

"No, that's not all," she says. "Here's the way I figure it. The priest of the new religion blessed our marriage in front of our people. We needed that, and now they hold us as man and wife, and king and queen." Arthur nods, and Gwen continues, "But it wasn't enough."

After a very short pause Merlin says, "I'm not a priest of the old religion. I've got this" – he just turns his hand over and the magic is sparking on Gwen's skin again. She stops herself from pressing closer to him. "I never trained with anyone except Gaius and even he wasn't –"

"That doesn't matter," says Gwen. "What you did just now, how you helped me with this dress? I want you to do that for Arthur."

Arthur squares his shoulders and frowns more deeply as Merlin says, "But you've already –"

"Got him out of his armour, I know," and it's not like she didn't enjoy it. Just like she wouldn't mind going for the laces of his trousers and stripping the rest of this clothing off him while he tears off this increasingly bothersome dress, and yet, "it's just he's still…tied up, you see."

Arthur says, "I am not –"

"On the inside," Gwen clarifies. "And I think if we had some kind of, you know, _ritual_, that might be really…helpful."

"Oh," says Merlin.

"Really?" says Arthur.

"I don't –"

"It doesn't _matter_, Merlin," Gwen insists. "No one ever taught you how to save Arthur from monsters either. It's just something you do, right?"

"Right…"

"So…" Impatiently she grabs his hand, and takes Arthur's as well, then glares at them until they offer their other hands to each other. And even though Gwen's never taken part in such a ritual either, she says the first thing that comes into her head once they're standing together like that. "Right, Merlin, think about all the things you've ever wanted to do to me, and give that desire to Arthur. Can you do that?"

"I can't make him desire something."

"But you can –"

"Yes," Arthur says decisively, because something's passed between them already, and she can tell from the way he's looking at her that he won't hesitate anymore. He takes a step closer to her and starts to let go of Merlin's hand, but she says,

"Wait!" and they freeze. "All right, that's good. Now do the same for me, Merlin, give me everything you've…" She could say _wanted_, but there's no sense pretending, so she takes a deep breath and finishes, "Everything you've done with Arthur, and that you're willing to share with me."

She shuts her eyes and waits for it, a charge of magic through her arm or into her mind, but there's nothing, and when she opens her eyes they're both just staring at her. "What?" she says.

"Do I get to stick around, after this…?" Merlin asks, and Arthur and Gwen answer, "No," with a single voice.

Then she adds, as gently as she can while Arthur's looking at her like that, "Not tonight, anyway, just…"

"All right," Merlin says, and instead of where he's touching her she feels it where she wishes someone _would_: in her groin, in her nipples, all up and down the length of her spine and the breadth of her skin and she thinks her knees might give out any moment and they're only touching her hands and Arthur still isn't kissing her but she knows she can't let go yet.

"Finish it," she says.

"I don't –"

"Just fucking bless us with the power of the old religion," she commands him, though she can't look away from her husband – only looks him up and down in her hunger.

"I…bless you with the power of the old religion," Merlin stammers, but his voice sounds stronger as he continues, "May your lives be long and happy, may your marriage always be full of love, and passion –" he clears his throat – "and always as free from jealousy as it is now."

Protecting himself. Well, all right, he's probably earned that after what he went through when Uther was alive. "Good enough," says Gwen.

Merlin starts running as soon as she releases his hand, and she doesn't notice whether he slams the door or what happens after that because Arthur's finally got his arms around her and his tongue in her mouth. It's a good thing he's got a warrior's instincts or he'd probably tip over when she jumps on him, pulling up with her arms around his neck and her legs around his hips, but he just grabs one of the bedposts with one hand and holds on to her with the other, and after a few moments of swaying and swinging while Gwen concentrates on devouring his mouth, he's brought her to the bed.

She pulls him after her, tugging at his shoulders and his shirt and tugging it off, and he's crawling after her but she tips him back and straddles his hips again. Finally she's got her fingers in the laces of his trousers and she's fumbling, just wants to squeeze him and can't move her fingers quite right, but she thinks Merlin must have passed something of his magic to her because they're coming open all the same.

As soon as she's got his cock out she's on top of him – never mind the goddamn dress, there's no time to get it off. Together they tear off her undergarments (and yes, she does hear a tear in the fabric and doesn't care in the least) and guide his cock to her opening, loose and hungry and watering like her mouth for his kisses. She sinks down easily and the stretch is just right, just what she needs.

There's a flash in her mind of Merlin in her place, as Arthur starts to rock into her and she moves with him. She thinks Merlin's never known how good it feels to have Arthur Pendragon's cock filling his cunt, but he must known this view very well, must know how beautiful Arthur looks spread out below them, sweaty and needy and pushing up into them with everything he is. Gwen touches herself where he's moving in her, where she's taking him in. She could go on and on like this, but before long he's jerking up out of rhythm and calling out that he's close, so she rides him and squeezes her eyes shut and squeezes her clit, and when she comes she feels powerful, like a sorcerer, like a lover, like a queen.


End file.
